


The Other Woman

by paperclipbitch



Series: Femslash100: The Musketeers [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Community: femslash100, F/F, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperclipbitch/pseuds/paperclipbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meeting face to face was not supposed to be like this, Anne thinks; or perhaps it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Woman

**Author's Note:**

> For **femslash100** 's prompt #446: _face_. Set during series two, if you're not there yet.

In truth, Anne thinks that she envies Milady: not for having her husband, or for having that sweep of her eyes that Anne could never manage, but for having more freedom than a queen will ever have. Milady is not a fly trapped in amber, still and silent while her world splits around her: Milady has always acted as she wanted to, if the stories Constance has told her, of the Compte de la Fère and a marriage that cracked with a hangman’s noose, are true.

Up close, Milady has a bright, sharp beauty that Anne does not possess: a glitter to her eyes, a curl to her mouth, a flush to her high cheekbones that nothing will ever give Anne. She is considered lovely, but has nothing that Milady has, and she doesn’t know how to tempt her king back. She briefly considers that if _she_ were her husband, she would not want to come back either.

Meeting face to face was not supposed to be like this, Anne thinks; or perhaps it was.

“Do you want me to teach you some tricks to return your husband to your bed?” Milady asks, trailing light, knowing fingers over the inside of Anne’s wrist. Anne thinks she should tell her to stop, but she doesn’t.

Anne is on shifting, slippery ground, but she knows one thing: she will _never_ give Milady the satisfaction of admitting to it.

“No.” She whisks her wrist back; Milady’s touch lingers long after Anne’s stormed out.


End file.
